Page 108 of Cold as Hell

She whines again. It’s a different whine than when she scented the campsite. This one’s low and anxious, and when I go to pat her head, she ducks it.

Once Dalton gets close enough, I whisper, “I’ll take lead.”

He hesitates.

“Jerome likes sneaking up from behind,” I say.

A grunt. That reminder will keep Dalton in the rear. I signal for Storm to move forward with care. She does that, as well as a dog her size can. She creeps to the edge of another clearing and then stops and ducks her head again, a whine rippling through her.

The sun doesn’t penetrate this tiny clearing, surrounded by massive pines, and I have to squint to see. There’s something in the middle of it and—

“Oh!” I say, just as Dalton says, “Fuck.”

My hands fly to my mouth. “Is that…?”

Dalton only grunts and moves past us. I take another step, my gaze fixed on the scene in front of me.

It’s a body, spread-eagled on the snow, limbs tied to trees. There’s… not much left of the corpse. Scavengers have been feasting. One arm is no longer attached to the torso. One leg is gone completely.

The body is naked and lying on its back. It’s a man with a gagin his mouth. His eyes are missing, and something has pecked at his face, but enough remains for a positive identification.

“Jerome,” I whisper. “It’s Jerome.”

We’re back in town. We left Jerome’s body there. We need a witness to confirm how he died.

Once in town, Dalton goes to find Anders while I walk to one particular door.

I find Mathias in his shop, working on a trio of grouses.

“Fresh meat?” I say. “I didn’t think anyone was out hunting.”

“These are from traps.”

“Ah, right. Your traps.”

Last fall Mathias had decided he wanted to take up trapping. We figure it was mostly an excuse to tramp around the woods alone.

“It is good weather for it. The sun comes out, and all the animals peek out from their hidey-holes. Especially the predators.”

“Caught any predators lately?”

“A mink, in fact. I am curing the hide for a new baby. You may have heard we have one.”

I move up to the counter. “We found Marlon.”

“Who?” He looks up. “Ah, him.” His lip curls, and he goes back to his work with the grouse.

I lean against the counter and take a feather, turning it in my fingers. “We thought he drowned under the ice. Seems he escaped and had provisions. But then… well, he must have poked his head from his hidey-hole.”

Mathias only nods and separates a wing from the body.

“He was stripped naked,” I say. “Tied to trees and left to die.”

“Ah.”

“And you have nothing to say about it?”

Mathias tilts his head. “Only that it seems… What is the word in English?” He looks me in the eye. “Fitting.”